


Rose-Red and the Single Dwarf

by theonsfavouritetoy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Schneewittchen | Snow White (Fairy Tale)
Genre: #just for fun, #satire, F/M, I'm so bored, Other, language :p, no timeline at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:12:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonsfavouritetoy/pseuds/theonsfavouritetoy
Summary: Sansa is a poor princess fleeing the evil queen Cersei. When she meets Tyrion (dwarf, hardcore bachelor and self-proclaimed comedian), things go not very fairytale-like.Also starring:Jaime Lannister as the good-hearted huntsman and queen's thrallJoffrey Baratheon as the slightly necrophilic Prince Not-So-Charming





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry but I'm bored again. And I'm addicted to fanfics at the moment :p
> 
> Tyrionsa is a ship dear to my heart. Let's hope they at least meet again in S08!

Queen Cercei woke up in a particularly foul mood. She'd dreamt of the prophecy that was made about her when she was a child.  
It said that yes, she would be queen until another, younger, more beautiful, would come to take it away from her.  
The thought didn't leave her the whole day and when she collected her daily sleeping potion from Qyburn she'd made her decision.

"Send for Ser Gregor."  
The humongous knight was not far and within minutes he bowed to her.

"Ser Gregor, I heard there's a magic mirror somewhere in Westeros. I want it. Bring it to me at once."  
Ser Gregor bowed again and left.

The next fortnight the Queen occupied herself with drinking, painting stick figures of her dead enemies on the map of Westeros, and every now and then she casually strolled to the cells to examine the progress in her latest vengeance project. With all those strenuous tasks the weeks passed quickly enough and Ser Gregor returned.

And really, in his hands he held a big mirror-shaped object that he lay to her feet. Qyburn was quick to examine it.  
"It is indeed a mirror, your grace. Do you want to have a look?"

Cersei snatched the mirror out of his greedy little fingers and held it in front of her face. Nothing happened.  
Ser Gregor had been holding his hand up for quite a while now, but only then the Queen noticed.  
"Yes, Ser Gregor?" 

He pointed to the mirror and made strange gestures in front of his face.  
Cersei raised an eyebrow and turned to Qyburn.  
"The next one I want to be able to talk! What's he saying?"

Qyburn hurried to explain.  
"A certain spell is needed to activate the mirror's powers, my Queen!"

Cersei rolled her eyes. "Perfect", she muttered under her breath.  
"And how are we to learn this spell?"

But Qyburn had already produced quill and parchment from one of his numerous pockets.  
Ser Gregor started huffing and puffing while he meticulously drew one letter after another.  
After the first word he needed a break.

Cersei sat on her throne while waiting, impatiently wiggling her toes and crossing and uncrossing her arms every minute or so.  
After about two hours Ser Gregor was done and Qyburn collected the parchment from him.

"Apparently, you say to the mirror: magic mirror in my hand, who's the fairest in the land?"  
Cersei fumbled for the mirror, looked into it and said the words.

Immediately a different face was looking back at her.  
"Hello there! I'm the magic mirror, and you, Queen Cersei, are the fairest of them all."  
The face had pale blue eyes with a disconcerting look in them and a broad nose and lips like wriggly worms. Black hair fringed his forehead.

"Well thank you, ugly mirror guy. So I can sleep easy?"  
The mirror-man snickered.  
"No no no, not so fast, my Queen. You forgot to ask if I'm a liar!" 

Cersei grew angry. Who did he think he was?  
"So there's someone fairer than me?"  
"Oooh, a lot! The dragon queen for example, but she's not in Westeros, so she doesn't count, strictly speaking."  
"Who else?"  
The mirror-man smacked his fat lips.  
"The very best is yet to come! Do you know the Lady Sansa Stark?"  
"Of course, Ned Stark's eldest daughter? What's with her?"  
"Aaaaah, Sansa... now she's the most delicious, peachy-"

Cersei made a face.  
"Ugh, this mirror is obscene!"  
The mirror-man grinned.  
"Well, you asked and there you have it. The Lady Sansa is much much fairer and juicier than you, younger and not so bitter and stale and her boobs are still firm and-"

Cersei pushed the mirror at Qyburn in a hurry.  
"Make him shut up!!! I cannot listen to this lewd nonsense anymore!"

Qyburn stuffed the mirror into one of his pockets and after a little grumbling it went quiet.  
Cersei stepped out into the courtyard with the great map.  
Stark. They were in Winterfell. She would have to send someone very loyal and trustworthy to kill that girl Sansa for her.

"Send for the huntsman!"


	2. II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Sansa Stark and the Huntsman

Sansa was the prettiest girl in all the North, everyone agreed on that.  
She had a clear rosy skin, full lips in the shape of a rosebud, bright blue eyes and fiery red hair.  
But what endeared her to everyone she met, was her sweet temper. She always behaved ladylike, no matter the circumstances.

One day she was out in the Wolfswood near her home Winterfell, when suddenly a tall man approached her.  
He had golden hair, a golden smile and a golden hand.  
But in his other hand he held a sword.

"Are you the Lady Sansa?"  
"Depends on who's asking, mylord."  
"My name is Jaime Lannister, I'm Queen Cersei's brother, thrall and - at the moment - a famous huntsman. I'm always famous for everything I do."  
"And what are you on the hunt for today, Ser Jaime?"  
"You, mylady. I have orders to carve out your heart and bring it to the Queen."  
"Well, this is unfortunate. How are we to proceed?"  
"Now that I see you I cannot do it. You are so fair, so sweet, such an innocent child..."  
"Thank you, strange man much older than me who doesn't know me at all, but I don't see how this is going to save my heart from being carved out."

The knight sighed and tried to rub his eyes with his fists. Unfortunately he forgot his golden hand and hit himself hard in the eye.  
"Ouch! Stupid thing!"  
Sansa watched him with mild amusement.  
"When you're done clobbering yourself, I hope you come up with a plan."

Ser Jaime looked affronted but brushed over it.  
"I'm going to bring her someone else's heart. The Boltons should have a fresh one for me."  
"And then, what should I do then? I'm just a poor girl!"  
"Hmmmm, there IS someone actually... Do you know the Vale of Arryn?"  
"Yes of course, my aunt lived at the Eyrie before she got mad and tried to fly out of her moon door. Why?"  
"Then you have to go to the Vale, run quickly, for I don't know how long I can fool the Queen. I'm the stupidest Lannister and not very good at lying."  
"I will do as you say. What should I do once I reach the Vale?"  
"You'll find a small keep in the hills. There you will be safe. But I should warn you about the landlord..."  
"What of him?"  
"You'll see for yourself. It's hard to explain."

And so they parted, Sansa to the Vale, Ser Jaime to the Dreadfort.  
Luckily, the Boltons DID have a heart (if not in their chests) and with it Ser Jaime was on his merry way back to King's Landing.

The Queen welcomed him with a purr.  
"Oooooh you've done a marvellous job, brother! Now send this to the cooks, I want to consume this tonight for dinner."  
Ser Jaime looked at his sister-queen in disgust and retched.  
"Oh, don't look like that, you pussy. Fine, if you're not up to the task I'll ask Euron to keep me company tonight.

Ser Jaime trotted out like a beaten dog.  
Sometimes the Queen was really a bitch!


	3. III.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion Lannister has entered the building.

After a long and dangerous journey Sansa finally made it to the Vale. She was quite exhausted from fending off the obligate trolls, shadow cats and the odd Ironborn reaper thrown in for good measure.  
So she was understandably relieved when she saw the keep the famous huntsman had told her about. Well, keep was maybe stretching the term a bit... more of a large hut, really.  
But Sansa was so weary that she entered anyway.

In the first room she saw a normal table, normal chairs and a normal hearth. She wondered fleetingly what the huntsman meant when he said the landlord was strange.  
But she shrugged and went to examine the other room. There was one single bed and she lay down on it and immediately starting snoring blissfully.

She was awoken by an almighty ruckus in the front room and went to examine. There, on the floor next to the table lay a tiny man flat on his face in a puddle of what Sansa hoped was wine.  
The man didn't move and so she nudged him with her shoe, once, twice. Still he didn't stir.  
Oh well, she thought to herself, if he's dead I can live here in peace. And she went back to bed.

But she couldn't really attend to her beauty sleep, for the possibly dead little man wasn't dead at all. He came crawling into the chamber on all fours and started to tug himself up on the bedpost.  
Sansa realized he was drunk as three sailors and before he could do anything ghastly (like get into bed) she quickly sat up, nearly giving him a heart attack.

"Seven hells! Who are you and why are you in my bed? Is it my nameday already?"  
And he slumped to the floor.  
"You're not by any chance the fair maiden a witch once predicted for me, no? Lips as red as blood?"

Sansa saw no point in lying.  
"Well, yes."  
"Skin as white as snow?"  
"I wouldn't call it snow white, but yes."  
"Hair as black as ebony?"  
"Oh, no, sorry. That would be my half-brother Jon."

The Little man looked indignant at that.  
"Well, I was promised a fair maiden, not some stupid boy. What colour's your hair, sweetling?"  
"Red, and my name is Sansa, not sweetling."  
"Pardon, mylady. Hm - if the only one matching my prophetic description is your brother-"  
"Half-brother."  
"-half-brother... you'll do."

Sansa gathered her cloak tightly around her chest.  
"I'll do nothing, mister. I don't even know your Name, to begin with!"

The man got up, swaying violently.  
"I beg your forgiveness, I must've lost my manners somewhere along the way."  
He bowed and nearly toppled over.  
"My name is Tyrion Lannister and I'm the Queen's brother whom she doesn't like because he's a dwarf."

Sansa's eyes sparkled at that.  
"Ohh you're a dwarf? Why haven't you said so?"  
"What do I look like to you, a giant?"  
"I just thought, maybe you were bathed too hot as a child?"

Then she remembered what he'd said.  
"Wait, you're a Lannister? How did you come to live here?"  
"As I said, my sister hates me and my brother sent me here to keep me safe from her. Why are YOU here, by the way?"  
"Same reason. Queen wants to kill me, your brother sent me her to keep me safe."

Tyrion considered that.  
"So it seems were roommates now. And I'm very tired, so let me up there and sleep."  
"Have you lost your mind? You're not coming anywhere near my bed!"  
"Oh, YOUR bed, is it now?"  
"I'm a lady!!"  
"That will remain to be seen. Well - I'll sleep on that comfortable recliner over there then. Good night, sweetling."  
"Sansa!"  
"Whatever."


	4. IV.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad news for Queen Cersei (and even badder news for Jaime)

Queen Cersei was livid.  
Euron had taken one bite of the heart-stew and spit it out again immediately.  
"What the fuck? This isn't the heart of a maiden fair, this had to be some old scrawny peasant. I've eaten my fair share of hearts and I know the difference!"

Cersei screamed for Qyburn.  
When he came waddling she attacked him.  
"Do you have that mirror with you?"  
"Yes of course, your grace, here it is!"

Cersei snatched it away from him and peered into it.  
The ghastly mirror-man was still there, but he seemed to be sleeping.  
She turned to Qyburn.

"Hasn't he gone away at all since we activated that thing?"  
"No, your grace, he refuses to leave until we say the correct words."  
"And what ARE the correct words?"

Cersei and Qyburn both looked over at Ser Gregor in his corner.  
The huge man just shrugs.

Cersei rolled her eyes.  
"Well, we might as well make use of it then. Hey, mirror! Wake up!"  
She shook the mirror violently and the mirror-man's eyes flew open.

"Well helloooo, if that isn't Queen Cersei, the fairest of them all. Have you missed me already, my queen?"  
And he snickered gleefully.  
Cersei bared her teeth at him. 

"Oh shut up you revolting thing. All I want to know is if there's still someone fairer than me in Westeros."  
"Haven't you listened the last time I spoke to you? The. Lady. Sansa. Stark."  
"My brother said he killed her. He brought me her heart."  
"Did he now... Strange, I can still see the Lady Sansa, only now she seems to be sleeping in some kind of hut, with a drunken dwarf in her room."

Cersei starts screaming unarticulate threats at the mirror, but the man only yawns.

"Have my brother Jaime brought to me at once!!!!"

Cersei snatched up the mirror again.  
"While I'm at it, is there anyone else I should kill because they're fairer than me?"  
The mirror-man puts on a disgusting pout.  
"Hm.... let me think... there's the Tyrell girl, she's pretty nice, too. I would really like to lick her butt and-"

Cersei quickly sat on the mirror which had some enthusiastic muffled sounds as a consequence.  
Then finally her brother Jaime was brought into her room.

"Traitor! Craven! Imbecile!"  
Queen Cersei hurled her insults at him and he let his head hang down in shame.  
"I'm really sorry, your grace, I just couldn't. You should've seen her, those eyes and..."  
He sighed.

Cersei felt like exploding.  
"Ser Jaime! As a punishment for your traitorous actions you will empty Ser Gregor's chamber pot for the following week, you hear me?"  
Jaime paled at that, but he knew he was in no position to protest.

Cersei turned to Euron who had watched all of this mildly amused.  
"It seems I'll have to kill that bitch myself!"


	5. V.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa tries to accomodate to her new life and finds a new friend

Sansa wasn't very happy with the shape the hut was in. It wasn't very neat and it hurt her aesthetics.  
The dwarf had left in the early morning ("Business!") and now she was by herself, pretty bored and trying to figure out how to proceed.  
Of course she couldn't be presumed to tidy up, she was a lady after all.

But in her heart she was also a princess, so the obvious thing to do was to sing a nice princessly song and hope for the best.  
And sure, after a while the clearing the hut was standing in started to fill with all sorts of forest creatures.  
Rabbits, squirrels, birds and a large bear who stalked up to her slowly.

He was huge and his teeth seemed sharp, but Sansa was a Lady, and Ladies aren't afraid of bears.  
The bear lifted himself on his hind legs and started talking.

"Would you shut the fuck up, please??? It sounds like someone is hammering a bag of cats against a wall!"  
Sansa wasn't very surprised that the bear could talk (this IS a fairytale after all), but she was very vexed about what he'd said.

"Aren't you a bit rude? If you don't like what you hear, then don't listen, how about that!"  
The bear rolled his eyes.  
"Your voice is shrill enough to have the Others cover their ears by now, missy."

Sansa thought about that.  
"Well, I DO need some help here, so if you and the other fluffy stuff would be so kind...? I promise I won't sing again."

The bear grunted.  
"You heard her, guys. Get to work, make the place sparkle or she's going to sing again!"  
Sansa looked at the bear more kindly now.  
"What's your name, Bear?"

The bear sat down heavily.  
"First, it's not 'Bear'. My name is Jorah Mormont and an evil witch transformed me into a bear as a punishment."  
"What for?"  
"I was selling something I shouldn't have been."  
"And the witch got angry?"  
"No, not the witch. She was only sent as an executor of some sorts."  
"Whom by?"  
"The Lord of Winterfell!"

Sansa swallowed and decided it was best to put on a pretty smile.  
"That's my father! I'm Sansa Stark."  
The bear rose again upon hearing that and growled at her furiously.  
"I can finally get revenge for my misery! I'm going to devour you now!

But Sansa smiled some more, really sweetly, and fluttered her eyelashes at the bear coyly.  
The bear sat down again.  
"Oh, I can't do it, I just can't, you're soooo beautiful and cute and sweet and I could never hurt you!"

Sansa slumped down and crossed her arms. This was quite useful, but to be honest - it got old pretty fast.


	6. VI.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei tries to act out her evil plans.  
> 

Cersei was very satisfied. The lip colour she'd used on previous occasions could be useful in this endeavour as well.  
All she needed to do was to get to the hut, sell the little bitch the stuff and wait. Might as well kill her dwarf brother too while she was at it.  
So she set off on her journey by way of late-season-beaming and appeared in the forest near the clearing.

When she tried to go to the door, a huge bear stepped in her way.  
"Who are you?" He sounded threatening.  
"Oooh, I'm just a nice Lady selling make-up and I heard here lives an exceptional beauty. I thought she might like some?"

The bear stepped aside, looking a little dreamy.  
"Of course the Lady Sansa doesn't need any adornments but I'd love to see her wearing some nice lipstick... or some rouge to make her blush even more beautifully..."  
Cersei gritted her teeth. Even a stupid bear was falling for that bitch!!

In the hut Sansa was preparing herself for retiring. The dwarf had come home a couple of hours before with some friends and they talked and talked in the front room.  
From what Sansa could hear it was mostly about drinking and slaughtering someone. One time she thought she'd heard something like, "feed it to the goats", but she wasn't sure about that one.  
All in all it was pretty tiresome. So she combed her shining red hair and just wanted to crawl into bed when she heard a knock on the window.

When she opened it, there was a figure standing out there, heavily cloaked and unfamiliar. 

"Yes, please? What do you want?"  
The figure held up a little box with something powdery stuff in it.  
"It's something to put a bit of colour on those pretty lips of yours. Here, take it!"  
"I'm sorry I'm not buying anything at the door as a rule."  
"This is not a door, this is a window. And you don't have to buy, sweet child, I want to give it to you as a gift!"

Sansa was delighted.  
"How nice, thank you very much! But I really have to go to sleep now, so byebye, thanks for calling!"  
And she closed the shutters in the strange figure's face.

She was way too tired to try that stuff out today, so she just crawled into bed and was out cold in seconds.

Tyrion was in front of the hut, pissing against a tree, when he saw the hooded figure slip away. He narrowed his eyes. Strange...

Cersei was smiling to herself. Even if only half her plan for that night had gone through - she'd seen Tyrion with some seriously mean looking men through the window and didn't want to risk it.  
It shouldn't be long now before she was the fairest of them all.


	7. VII.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion saves Sansa for the first time but she isn't exactly grateful.

When Sansa woke up bright and early the next morning she found Tyrion snoring at the kitchen table.   
She scoffed and went to cook herself some eggs to break her fast.  
When she'd finished eating she decided to try that lip stuff she'd gotten the day before from that not very trustworthy person at the window.

But just as she was about to dab it onto her rosy mouth a small flash slapped her hand away and swept the box with the rest on the floor.

"What are you doing, dwarf???"  
Sansa looked at Tyrion in exasperation.   
"Don't put that stuff on you! I think it's dangerous!"

Sansa pouted (prettily).  
"Why would you think that? I got it yesterday-"  
"From a muffled up stranger with a swagger to her hips like a back-alley-whore, right? I know only one who can pull that swagger off without me wanting to fuck her."

Sansa was shocked.  
"Language, Tyrion!"  
Tyrion raised an eyebrow. 

"Seriously? The term 'fucking' doesn't even qualify as 'language', seeing how commonly it's used nowadays."  
"Well, not by ME. And preferably not in front of me."  
"Tough luck. Listen, sweetling... Sansa. Don't get stuff from strangers if you want to live any longer, do you understand me?"  
"Yes, yes, understood. Who was that?? You haven't told me!"

Tyrion sighed.  
"Only the most murderous woman in the world."  
Sansa looked blank.  
"My sister? Evil Queen? Capital bitch?"  
Sansa smiled in realisation.  
"Oh, the one who wants to kill me! How not very nice of her. Now, would you please leave so I can be all exhausted and weary from this terrifying ordeal?"

Tyrion frowned.  
"How about 'Thank you, Tyrion, for saving my life'? Or a gratitude blowjob."  
Sansa sprang up. "Oh you filthy creature, I would NEVER!!!" And she stormed out of the hut.

Tyrion looked after her wistfully.  
"Pity."


	8. VIII.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A set-back for Cersei.  
> 

Queen Cersei was (unbeknownst to her) still not the most fairest woman in Westeros, and she was certainly not the most patient.  
Still she managed to let two full days pass before she sent for Qyburn and the mirror again.  
But the mirror-man was nowhere to be seen.

"Qyburn! Where is that ghastly face?"  
"I don't know, your grace. He was there yesterday when we had a little discussion about the various merits of flaying someone alive or sedated."  
Cersei raises an eyebrow at that.  
"I can imagine which side he took in this issue. Where can he be now?"

The mirror coughed.  
"I'm here, I'm here. Sorry for being late. Had to scare the shit out of some pussy in Winterfell. He's looking into everything shiny. Ha, you should've seen his face when it was me looking back at him!"  
The mirror-man cackled loudely and Cersei had enough of his crap for now.

"Come on, ugly mirror. Am I NOW the fairest in Westeros?"  
The mirror-man narrowed his eyes. Cersei didn't like that look at all.  
"Careful, my queen. You're repeating yourself and I'm getting bored. You won't like it when I'm bored with you."

Cersei turned to Qyburn.  
"Is this thing threatening me? Can he do something?"  
Qyburn skittled over.  
"I don't think so, your grace, not while he's in there."

The man snorted angrily.  
"Mayhaps I won't be in here forever? What then?"  
But Cersei wasn't easily intimidated.  
"Well, you're in there for now, you might as well answer my question."  
"Alright, alright. No you're not the fairest, Sansa's fairer. That funny little man saved her. There, happy?", said the mirror in a most uninterested voice.

Cersei screamed so loud the ravens in the Oldtown Citadel nearly suffered a heart attack, which was quite impressive as it was very far away from King's Landing.  
There was no mail service in the Citadel for two weeks.


	9. IX.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter may be coming, but the ice in the Vale begins to thaw.

Sansa felt guilty.  
Not for her refusion of the... thing... but for not saying thank you. That had not been very ladylike at all.  
So she decided to make a big dinner for Tyrion to apologize.

When he came home with a huge man with a wild appearance he was genuinely surprised.  
And since he was a man with manners, he introduced his companion.  
"Sansa, this is Shagga, son of Dolf. Shagga, this is Sansa, daughter of Eddard."  
Sansa courtsied and Shagga grunted. 

When Tyrion looked at him meaningful he seemed confused. Tyrion started winking at him. Shagga grew even more confused.  
Tyrion sighed and moved his hand in a very distinct fashion and he finally managed to convey what he wanted.  
Shagga grunted again and left.

Tyrion turned around and jumped when he saw Sansa standing directly behind him, big wooden spoon in her hand, frozen expression on her face.  
"I. Saw. That."  
He raised his hands assuringly.  
"No, mylady, it wasn't meant like that. Well, it was, but only to get rid of him. He's no company for a sweet flower like you!"  
Sansa didn't seem too convinced, but she let it slide.

Tyrion climbed on a chair and looked at her expectantly.  
Sansa dumped a plate in front of him with a smack and he sighed.  
"Still angry? I told you-"  
"Yes, yes, yes. Eat before it gets cold."

Tyrion obliged and tucked in. He didn't say a word while he was eating and Sansa watched him very closely.  
When he was finished he wiped his mouth with a cloth and looked at her.  
"Well, that was... delicious. Thank you."  
And Sansa smiled at him for the first time.

Later, when she cleaned the table she tasted some of the food that was left. This was the first thing she'd ever cooked and she had been far too nervous to eat anything at all.  
It was horrible.  
But Tyrion had eaten it all and was even nice enough to lie to her, so that was quite nice of him.  
Maybe he wasn't so horrid after all.

She had just thought that, when Tyrion appeared in the kitchen again. He seemed like he wanted to say something and Sansa looked at him inquiringly.

"Do you think..."  
"Yes?"  
"Do you think I could sleep on the bed tonight? My back is killing me."  
"And where shall I sleep?"

Tyrion looked at her like she was missing something obvious.

"Ah... on the bed? I don't take that much space, really."  
"You want us to sleep in the same bed??"  
"I swear I won't touch you! But... well... it's MY bed, actually."  
"I'll think about it."  
"Thank you."


	10. X.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa learns something new. Cersei plans Sansa's demise once more.

Sansa had slept very poorly. In fact she hadn't slept at all, lying on the bed stiff as a plank, all her attention focused on the snoring heap near her feet.  
But Tyrion had been true to his word and in the morning she grudgingly consented to the new sleeping arrangement being permanent.  
The lack of sleep made her utterly sullen throughout the day.

Every time Tyrion or the bear tried to speak to her she all but snarled at them, until both were very peeved with her.  
In the evening Sansa wanted to chat to someone but the bear only looked at her with a wounded expression.  
"You were very ghastly today. I don't want to speak with you."  
But Sansa turned on her smiles and charms until the bear was all mellowed, sitting by her side and merely grumbling softly.

Later she had to face a VERY sulky Tyrion. He wouldn't even look at her.  
Oh well. Once more. And she called out in the sweetest voice imaginable.  
"Tyriooon?"  
He turned around with a stony face.  
"What?"

And Sansa broke into the most beautiful smile she'd ever smiled, her eyes going all doe-y, her eyelashes fluttering, her cheeks blushing so prettily.  
Tyrion didn't move a muscle.  
Now that was something new.  
Slightly confused she tried again, smiling even more sweetly, oozing charm and sweetness out of her every pore.  
Still Tyrion looked at her motionless.

Sansa lost her shit.  
"How can you not be nice to me??? This has never failed, what kind of sorcery is this???"  
She stomped her foot very cliché'd and slumped down on a chair, her arms crossly folded over her chest.

Tyrion turned and left her, a tiny smile now on his face.  
Look at that, he must be the first not to fall into her strings so easily. Good for her!

***

Meanwhile in King's Landing Cersei was brooding over a new plan to kill her nemesis.  
Nothing seemed fit until Qyburn produced a very pretty dress.  
Cersei wasn't impressed.  
"What. Should I wear this and have her envy me to death?"

But Qyburn shook his head patiently.  
"This isn't just any dress, your grace. I prepared it to drain the life out of the one who wears it. Twelve hours wearing this and they're dead."  
Now Cersei was intrigued.

The dress was beautiful, a light blue with darker petticoats, ruffled sleeves and beautiful lace upon the neckline.  
She would've tried it herself but it didn't fit with her new style of spikes and black and generally very strange.

So she had the dress delivered to the Lady Sansa, currently resident at the Vale.  
When she got the message that the parcel had been delivered, she called for the mirror.

The mirror-man was there, already waiting for her.  
Since their last discussion he'd been quite sullen and grumpy, but now he greeted her with a sigh.  
"Let me guess, Queen Cersei wants to know if she's the fairest?"  
"Not yet. First I want you to have a look if Sansa is wearing the blue dress."  
"Can do. Back in a few."

And he was gone.  
He came back quickly, a leering expression in his eyes.  
"Aaaah that was a lovely sight, that dress clinging to her bosom, that wonderful hair, that luxurious butt, oh how I want to touch it, press my lips-"  
"Oh enough of that already!"  
The mirror-man was practically drooling by now and Cersei shuddered with revulsion.  
"Go and scare someone, you like that, don't you?"

The mirror-man seemed to think about it.  
"Well, why not. That sleazy fuck in Winterfell is still posing in front of every reflecting surface. He tries to figure out from which angle he looks best. Ha, last time he even sported his bow and arrow. You should've seen him, what a twat! If I ever get out here I'm going to have a loooot of fun with that one."  
"You do that." Cersei grew tired of him quickly. "Now go and have fun, but make sure you'll be back in about twelve hours!"  
And he was gone.


	11. XI.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion saves Sansa for the second time - much to her dismay

"Fuck!"  
When Tyrion had come home, Sansa had been spread out on the floor.  
He'd dragged her into a half-sitting position and slapped her face lightly.

"Hello? Sansa? What's the matter?"  
She didn't respond and he didn't like the look of her at all.  
She was sweating and her skin was pale against the blue dress-

The dress!!!  
Quickly Tyrion pondered his Options. There weren't that many really.  
"She's going to kill me for this", he mumbled to himself while untying the laces.

She was wearing an undergarment.  
"Thank. The. Gods."  
Tyrion hastened his fingers, prying Sansa out of the tight dress as quickly as he could.   
He cast it aside and waited.

After a couple of minutes, her eyelids started to flutter and she openend her eyes.  
"Tyrion? I feel strange."

He didn't know where to look.  
"You'll feel better once we burn that damn Thing! Where'd you get it?"

"Package delivery."

"Haven't we talked about not taking things from strangers?"

"But it's a beautiful dress!"

"Very beautiful indeed. It sucked the life out of you! That's Qyburn's making, and that means my sister again."

Sansa looked a little put out.  
"Why does she want to kill me so bad?"

Tyrion shrugged.  
"Bored, I guess. Running out of siblings to torment. Someone telling her you're more beautiful than her."

Suddenly Sansa seemed to notice the state she was in and she jumped up.  
"OH. MY. GODS!!!!! What have you DONE you pervy thing, I'm all but naked!!!!"

"Better naked (and that's not naked I assure you) than dead, wouldn't you admit?"  
He could nearly see the little wheels in her head working.  
Then Sansa surprised him. Gracefully she bent over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Tyrion, for saving my life."   
That left him baffled.

***

"It's twelve hours later and I'm back. And, seeing as I'm highly intelligent, I already anticipated your request and had a look."  
Cersei looked at the mirror in excitement.

"And?? AND??"  
"Prettier than ever, although I nearly got sick when she smooched that funny little man for saving her again. Such Beauty should not be tainted-"  
He didn't get to say anymore because Cersei had thrown the mirror against the wall, shattering it in a thousand pieces.

She looked at what she'd done.  
"Oh fuck."  
There was no sound coming from the shards or the mirror frame.

***

Somewhere up north a man awoke from a long, long sleep, full of dreams of old queens, fair princesses and jumpy faggots in front of mirrors.


End file.
